I’ve just found an old school friend online. Saw she is married which was nice, two beautiful children, then I saw to whom she is married...and I broke more inside. How can this thing even still sustain me? Why can’t it give in and nobody needs to feel shame from suicide or think I was selfish (my being here still is a double-edged sword) I want to be productive, I want to be helpful, I WANT SO DESPERATELY to be ...better? Ok? Not a burden? Something...
I’m not allowed to live in my flat (as per police instructions) my mobility equipment and my wheelchair are there. I am in so much extra pain because I don’t have these things.
I’ve been called fat twice today, in the place where I’m having to stay tonight, I don’t want to eat ever again. I can’t be the stone round the neck of all who meet me. I don’t want to be. I’m not CHOOSING to be!!! When you can only fully weight bear on one leg and ‘proper’ cleaning involves climbing over a bathtub-seems tiny, it tough and the way out is downright dangerous.
The last attacker took more of my dignity but needing to push that aside when needing help in/out tub to wash. Then more comments are made on my ‘newer’ scars and weight. I have no sharp things to get by the way I had been... other’s are allowed their alcohol or cigarettes... why is mine so dramatically different and disgusting? Why is my vice the worst? Who decides these things?
Wish there was a way vanishing didn’t leave someone with clean up or work or... whatever
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